


Promise and Sacrifice

by Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Category: Dark City (1998)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Porn, Pre-Canon, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-17
Updated: 2009-10-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 01:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1624676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They needed Schreber's skills, they said. To conduct these inhumane experiments on his kind. He never would have agreed, if it hadn't been to save him (slash, Murdoch/Schreber)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise and Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airspaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airspaniel/gifts).



> Written for airspaniel

 

 

Notes: Written to fill the following request New Years Resolution prompt for old!Yuletide: Dr. Daniel Schreber/Inspector Frank Bumstead/John Murdoch - Any or all of these guys in the same story is fine, slash/het/gen is fine, all ratings welcome. Backstory or character exploration pieces would be a special plus.

Takes place pre-movie, with the idea that Murdoch and Schreber knew each other and were lovers on earth.

________________

Promise and Sacrifice

Things like this weren't supposed to happen, really. This was Hollywood fare, like the plot of a bad science fiction movie. They were supposed to be at home, waking up late on a Sunday morning. They were supposed to be planning a trip up to Canada, he'd been nominated for a Gairdner award for his work with Alzheimers patients. They certainly weren't supposed to be here. They weren't supposed to be in some cold, dark little room cluttered with random trinkets and valuables like a pawn shop. They certainly weren't supposed to be the prisoners of these strange, pale faced men in leather gowns that were somehow not entirely human....

Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber, Psychologist and Research Biologist, perched quietly on a tipped over chest of drawers, taking mental stock of the room once again as his dark haired lover paced back and forth in front of the door. He wasn't particularly certain why these things were in the room with them, unless this was meant to be a storage for odds and ends and scientists. There was a strange assortment of furniture from different eras - a threadbare chesterfield that looked like it had lived through the 70's twice and might put a spring up the ass of anyone who dares to sit on it, a curtained full poster bed, even a phonograph. It was a stark contrast to the very modern looking stereo system, which was useless with no power and currently sat underneath the thankfully working sink and the mirror that was set into the wall, a first aid kit stashed beside it. There was nothing he could see that would act as any kind of weapon, however. Definitely not for someone like him, who'd never fought with anything other than words.

"They can't really keep us here, can they?" His lover turned to him, breaking the silence with his incredulous question, green eyes bright with anguish. It was something neither of them had dared to voice in the twenty four hours they'd been there, since they'd woken up there with no idea of how they'd gotten there at all.

Daniel gave a soft smile, wishing he knew what to say. As badly as he wanted to offer some kind of hope, some kind of reassurance to the sweet man who'd been his partner for three years, and owned his heart from the moment he stepped into his office to interview for an internship, he knew it would all be false. "John. They aren't human. We don't even know if we're still on earth. They could have taken us anywhere. We can't rely on anyone but us."

"So I'm just supposed to let them keep hurting you?" his eyes flicked to the bandage on Daniel's shoulder, the dressing covering angry, bubbled heat blisters that he was sure were second degree burns. They'd cleaned them, cooled them as best they could with what little they had here, but it still hurt like hell. It was, one of the pale face men had told him, an example of what they could do, what they would do, if he continued to refuse to cooperate.

Daniel stood silently, slipping his arms around the man's shoulders and leaning in to kiss him softly, taking a little comfort in the warmth of John's arms around his waist, fingers sliding over the fabric of the white shirt that he half-wore, hanging off one shoulder to keep from aggregating the burn. There were only two things that could happen, realistically. The first would be to agree to what these strange beings wanted them to do, and spend the rest of their lives helping them perform their terrible, immoral experiments on other humans, on people they had somehow - or would somehow kidnap, just like they had been taken. Or, they could die.

"You're not letting them do anything, love. This is completely beyond our control." At John's soft, defeated sigh, he pressed his lips to the man's dark curls, taking comfort in the familiar scent of him. "Perhaps they will tire of us, if we continue to be uncooperative," he offered, though he knew the chance of that was slim.

"Maybe," John replied, clearly not believing it any more than he.

Daniel sighed, closing his eyes against the frustration of helplessness. He would have given anything to be alone here, to know that John was home safe and sound. "Stay close to me, love," he murmured softly, and felt John shudder against him, knowing as well as he did that the situation was hopeless.

~~~

They slept fitfully, curled together on the musty smelling bed under thin blankets, and every time Daniel moved, his arm ached. Regardless, he'd wrapped himself around John as best he could, taking comfort in his warmth and love, suddenly feeling like he couldn't bare to be separated from him.

They came again in the morning, saying nothing, the air filled with the strange clicking noises that always seemed to dominate when they were around. He'd begun to wonder if it was how they communicated. They pulled him away from John regardless of his lover's desperate protests, dragging him through strange, twisting metal hallways lit blue-green, with no hint of the sun or even outside. Were they underground?

They stripped off his shirt and strapped him to the same strange, spoked metal wheel he'd been strapped to the day before. They were calm, at first. Repeating their request, explaining that they needed to conduct these experiments to save their species from extinction. He'd already tried to reason with them the day before, to explain about how humans studied their own kind, how research and science might be able to help them without resorting to the brutality they were suggesting. It seemed to fascinate them, but the way they looked at him made it obvious that he was only a sample under a microscope.

When he refused, the hurt him again. Thin slashes of their strange knives over his chest and the uninjured shoulder, one for each time he said no. They burned hot and bright and agonizing, but he couldn't give in. At one point in time he'd passed out from it, and woken to a horrible, acidic sting burning his nose and his lungs that made it hard for him to draw full breath, and he could only assume they'd forced him to inhale some chemical to awaken him.

Finally, the one who had been wielding the knife approached him, one who the others referred to as Mr. Hand. He regarded him dispassionately, then lifted the knife to trace the tip under his right eye. "You would do well to give in, Doctor. We do not wish permanent harm on you. However, we cannot fix or replace a body part that has been... removed."

Daniel held stock still, body caught once again in terror, pulling soft, quick breaths, staring straight ahead and trying not to move. The tip of the knife pressed firm against his skin, not hard enough to pierce, but he could feel how sharp it was, how easy it would be for the creature to slip it upward into his eye.

"You will aid Us, yes?" the being stated, and Daniel steeled himself.

"Never," he whispered, and in a flash the knife moved, pain burning like fire where it cut into him, catching his skin and tearing, and though it hadn't touched his eye his vision clouded red as he clenched the eye shut - or tried to - crying out with a voice already harsh from screaming, gasping for breath with aching lungs. He heard more clicking, and when the restraints on his wrists and ankles came loose he almost fell, pressing his hand to the wound and feeling the skin loose and flapping under his palm.

They returned him to the room, and he half fell onto the fallen bureau, John at his side immediately. "Oh god - Daniel - your eye - "

He reached out for him blindly with the hand not pressed to his eye, managing to find his hand and clenching it hard, blackness playing at the edges of his consciousness from the pain and the shortness of breath. He couldn't imagine what he looked like to him, covered in blood from their cuts, from his eye. "John," he managed finally. His lungs still burned when he tried to inhale deeply, and he found it hard even to complete a single sentence in one breath.. "University. Did they teach you to -- suture flesh?"

He heard his lover draw a sharp breath, horrified. "I...."

"There's... sterile needles and thread in the -- first aid kit. My eyelid - please, John."

"You want me to stitch your - your - "

"I can't do it myself, John. Please. I need you."

John retrieved the box, letting it balance on top of the sink, finding the needles and threading one numbly. "What about your chest...?"

"They're only -- superficial. Just for pain." God, he hoped that was true. But they hadn't felt deep, not like this.

"Move closer to the light, please," John managed to whisper, watching him as he came closer, keeping pressure on the wound, fumbling with his belt buckle with his other hand and pulling the leather from his slacks.

"Don't think about it," he said softly, "it's not me, it's just -- the same as class." He put the width of the belt between his teeth, biting down on it. "Please."

John said nothing, only giving the slightest nod. He set the threaded needle down on a piece of gauze, picking up the bottle of rubbing alcohol. Carefully, he pulled Daniel's hand away from his eye, drawing breath in a soft hiss, and pressed a folded bandage to his cheekbone, just below the wound. "This will sting," he managed, then carefully trickled the liquid onto his skin.

Daniel jerked back almost immediately, jaw clenched on the belt and crying out around it at the touch of the alcohol on his flesh. "God - !"

"I'm sorry...." John set down the bottle and cupped the back of his head with his free hand, dabbing gently at the cut with the now wet bandage. "Hopefully that will do.... Daniel, I - this is deep. This won't heal cleanly, not without scarring, and I can't tell if there's been nerve or muscle damage - "

"Just stitch it," the doctor hissed, hands clenching the sides of the bench.

"If there's nerve damage..."

"Please, John. We have no other -- choice."

John picked up the needle, biting hard on his bottom lip to keep his mind from the horror of this, trying to pair the damaged flesh back together. The needle slipped too easily through his skin, moreso than he expected, and he tried to work calmly despite Daniel's breathless gasps of pain, knotting off the first stitch as neatly as he could, then the second, until the cut was closed. "That's the best I can do," he whispered.

Daniel drew a few shallow breaths before pulling the belt from his teeth, leaving it on the bench. He stood and went to the first aid kit at the sink, and with trembling fingers, carefully taped a bandage tightly over the stitches. Then he took the bandage that was already soaked with alcohol, dabbing at the cuts on his chest, which strangely enough were already half healed. "Thank you, love."

"How are we going to get through this?" John's voice cracked as he spoke, betraying the fear he was trying to hard to keep inside.

Daniel shook his head wordlessly, moving to embrace him, careful the uninjured side of his face pressed to John's hair.

There was food, some kind of tasteless, dry substance that was barely palatable with the lukewarm water from the sink. It helped his stomach settle a little, his limbs weak and trembling in the aftermath of adrenaline. Every inch of his skin ached, and he didn't have the spirit to do more then just sit, half curled into John... until the strangers took his lover away, returning him hours later in much the same state, though thankfully not requiring stitches. They curled together carefully on the mattress of the bed without bothering with blankets, cold but in too much pain to do otherwise.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and John's green eyes darted to his, confused. "It's my fault," he murmured in reply. "You know that it's -- me, that they want. They are using you -- to get to me. If it wasn't for me -- you wouldn't be here. You would be safe - "

John's fingers pressed to his lips, voice soft and weary but true. "Don't ever think that. I wouldn't trade my time with you for anything."

"We're going to die here," he whispered, and he found John's mouth with his own, trading trembling, despserate kisses, even through John's reply.

"I know."

~~~

Daniel was tied to the wheel again the next day, for hours and hours on end, until it all blurred together into bright pain. Finally they stopped, leaving the room, and he hung there, arms aching from his weight, completely able to open his right eye under the bandage. He expected more pain, and tried to steel himself for it, but he was so tired, body exhausted and trembling in the aftermath of adrenaline. How was he going to get them out of this? The thought still circled in his mind, but he was beginning to realize how hopeless it was, to fight against beings that could control matter itself. In the end, they would have to give in, to betray humanity, or they would die. Perhaps they could find something in the cell that would allow them both to take their lives.....

He hadn't kept track of how long had gone by when he heard footsteps again, and raised his head weakly, opening his eye to look at the stranger that approached him. This one was old, much older than the others he'd seen, the deathly white face wrinkled, voice somehow authoritative when he spoke. "Doctor Schreber. I am called Mr. Book. We have begun to realize that this course of action is proving quite futile. We will take no more of this from you."

He swallowed hard, forcing words through parched lips. "Then you will -- fail. We will never agree -- to help you with your -- horrible aims."

The one called Book stepped closer, looking down at him. "We are giving you a choice, Doctor. You see, We only need one of you. And We will have one of you, whether you like it or not. We would prefer your experience, but if you are uncooperative, We have no qualms about using your... companion instead."

Daniel felt a shudder of terror run through him at the thought of them taking John again, hurting him more. "He won't - agree," he gasped, and Book's eyes narrowed.

"Silence. These are our terms. You will work for us, and you will agree to have all memories of your human life erased. In return, we will let him go. If you do not agree to this, we will use your continued existence and torture as leverage to force him to do the work we require."

Daniel let his eyes fall closed, mind reeling. Let John go? They couldn't really be offering that... "What's the -- catch?"

"The catch, Doctor?"

"I know you won't -- send him back to earth. He knows -- too much."

"Of course not. We will imprint him with new memories and he will become one of the subjects of our experiments."

Safe, but no longer John. Just as he would no longer be Daniel. He gave a shuddering sob before he could stop himself. "Oh god...."

"Your answer, doctor? We do not wish to waste more time on these negotiations."

"How do I know you won't -- kill him?"

"He is still a valuable subject for Us, doctor. And better for Us to keep him on hand, in case you once more prove difficult in the future. We will ensure that you remember your leverage, even if specific memories of his personage and your emotions must, by necessity, be removed."

He drew a breath, as deep as his aching lungs would allow, looking up at him. "Heal him. Give me one more night with him, undisturbed. After that, I will -- do whatever you wish."

"Heal, doctor?"

"Tune away the injuries -- you have given him. So that he is -- healthy and whole, just like when -- you brought him here. And I will agree -- to your proposal. I will do your disgusting -- experiments. Whatever you say."

The Stranger considered this for some time, and then nodded, and he could hear that strange clicking in the room as the two that were with him approached and started undoing the belts at his wrists and ankles. "Your proposal is agreeable, doctor. Thank you for your cooperation."

He sagged with a sigh of relief, that they hadn't fought his demand, and let them carry, half drag him through the metal hallways, only half aware as he crumpled to the floor of the cell when they dropped him.

"Daniel. Daniel wake up. Please wake up." His lover's voice, helpless and sobbing, John's touch on his arm. The touch of a cloth, wet and cool, against his dry lips, dribbling water onto them. He struggled to open his eyes, sucking in a few deep breaths. John knelt beside him, and he managed to find the energy to catch his hand with his, holding it tightly, murmuring his name, taking comfort in the warmth of his hand, the bite of the silver ring John always wore - his gift, and a promise to love and care for him always. A promise he intended now to keep. He heard John give a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. I was so afraid when they brought you back...."

He gave a smile and managed to sit up, feeling rather better than he had before. Part of him wanted to tell John what had happened, to tell him that he'd be all right, be safe and whole again. But he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the finality of the agreement he'd made, and what it would mean. Instead he reached out to touch his cheek, noticing John was fully dressed. "How are you?"

"Better," his lover replied. "After they brought you back, the cuts stopped hurting... they look like they're healing now, somehow. You think it's something they've done? That they can change humans, too, not just objects?"

"Why not?" He replied softly, and smiled. "I'm glad it is easier -- for you."

"They... brought sandwiches, too..." John started, a little hesitant, and looked to where two large sandwiches wrapped in plastic sat on plates on the bureau with a bottle of grape juice between them, and it looked like the most delicious thing Daniel had seen in a very long time. His lover did not seemed so convinced. "What did you tell them?" he said softly, watching him.

Daniel swallowed, and lied. "Nothing. Perhaps my insistence that humans -- are better convinced by peaceful negotiation -- finally paid off." He managed to get to his feet, feeling much better now - was it their doing as well? "Let's take advantage of it."

He tugged John to bed afterwards with soft words, with murmured endearments and whispers of passion, like things had always been between them, before these days of darkness and pain. It wasn't ideal like this, in the strange room on the musty smelling bed, bodies still battered and aching, but they were together. This was all he had left, and he swore he would make the most of it.

They lay half shrouded from the rest of the room by the bed curtains, and he leaned in to catch John's mouth, warm and yearning, stroking his fingertips over his skin, through his dark curls. Trying to memorize them, like it could somehow keep John with him. Trying to map his face with his lips, with the fingers that smoothed gently over his chest through the man's thin dress shirt, listening for hints of pain but finding none. "I need you," he whispered, a little helplessly, starting to tug open the buttons of his shirt.

John yielded to him with a little shiver, arching into his touch, and Daniel could feel that he needed it as much as he did, despite his nervous protest. "Here? What if they - "

"I think they're done with us -- for the night," he breathed, pressing closer, needing to feel John's warmth against him despite the soft sting on his injured skin. "Please...."

There was a kind of cautious intensity to it, kisses and caresses not frantic, but still incredibly needy and yearning, as if physical affection and pleasure could erase what they'd been through. He covered John's neck and chest with breathless kisses, revelling in the familiar taste of his skin, the lingering touches of the cologne he'd worn before they were brought there. It was hard to imagine that for all the times they'd been together, shared passion and pleasure in love and adoration, that this would be the last. He tried to put it out of his mind, but it didn't stop his kisses from being a little harder, a little more demanding, body arching against John's almost desperately as they tugged the rest of their clothes off, reaching for more sensation.

John seemed to sense it somehow, and was uncharacteristically silent, responding to pleasure with soft moans and needy kisses, but none of the words he so often teased and encouraged Daniel with when they made love. It made things somehow more poignant, hearing only John's soft, whimpering gasps as he licked up the length of his lover's erection and took him in his mouth, John's hands tangling and clenching in his hair. There had been a small amount of lotion in the first aid kit, thankfully, and he used it now to prep him, trying to memorize the feel of his body, the way he arched and shuddered with Daniel's fingers deep inside him, teasing that spot he found so easily after so long together, knowing exactly how he liked it.

"Lay back," John breathed, low and husky as he pulled back, kneeling over Daniel's hips as he pressed him back into the mattress, stroking more lotion over the length of his cock, leaning down to kiss him, trembling, voice catching in his throat. "You made a deal with them, didn't you."

"Yes," he breathed, choking on the word, fingers clenching in John's curls to hold him to the kiss almost desperately, tearing at his mouth. "I'm so sorry, John - "

"Shut up and fuck me," was the only reply, broken and helpless, and John's lips hardly left his as the man shifted to curl his fingers around the base of Daniel's erection, rocking onto him slowly, his breath in soft, sobbing gasps. They both ended up seated, arms tight around each other, rocking together but unable to get close enough, gasping, moving together slow and intense. "I hate you," John choked, fingers digging into his back, but the ache was just another bright addition to the sensation that Daniel needed so badly. "Oh god, Daniel, don't - don't do this...."

"Shh..." he breathed softly, fingers tightening on his hips, pulling him down harder onto him, burying himself inside his dark haired lover. "I love you. I love you."

The revelation of his actions didn't take away any of the intensity, but rather seemed to add to it, both of them clinging to each other, tearing at each other's mouths with desperate kisses, bucking hard and fast together and almost rough with the need of it, crying out helplessly, voices raw and broken. He slipped a hand between them to circle John's cock, needing to feel him, needing to remember every part of this, even if they would erase it from him. It was the only way he could go into this, follow through with this with any sense of peace. He stroked him firmly in time with the movements of John's hips, gasping helplessly for breath with his still aching lungs, darkness and oblivion teasing the edges of his consciousness as his body fought to get enough oxygen. It made everything more intense, the sensation almost painfully sharp, and when the pleasure and sensation drew him over the edge seconds after he felt John pulse in his fingers and climax, the oblivion took him, rushing over him with the undeniable pleasure until all that existed was darkness. It was, he reflected later, somehow appropriate.

For now he woke up to John's arms holding him upright, his lover's cheeks wet with tears as he called his name, trying to rouse him, burying his face in his hair and sobbing brokenly when Daniel woke.

"Don't leave me," he breathed. "God, Daniel, don't leave me. You promised - "

"Shhh," he breathed again softly, still struggling for breath, to push away the darkness that swam at the edges of his consciousness. "I promised to take -- care of you. Can't let them hurt you -- anymore. And I will always -- be with you." He urged his lover back enough to kiss him, lips and fingers brushing away the tracks of his tears irregardless of his own. "My heart is always, always yours. No matter what. I swear it."

"I love you so much," John whispered, forehead pressed to his. "More than anything. Don't ever forget that."

They held close to each other, speaking little beyond soft endearments, trading soft kisses and caresses as they struggled to stay awake, to cling to this last bit of time for as long as possible. Finally, however, sleep took them, and that was the end of it.

Daniel was vaguely aware, somewhere in the darkness of sleep, of John's voice, arguing with them. Or was it just a dream? He heard his name and opened his eyes - or dreamed he did - to see them drag him away, John crying for him, promising his love even as the door of the cell swung shut.

When he awoke, John was gone, and all he could do was curl around the lumpy pillow and cry silently.

~~~

It was almost a full day later, when they finally came from him, as cold and emotionless as always. "Come with us, Doctor Schreber. It is time to begin your work."

Daniel gathered together the last shreds of his courage. "No.

The stranger... Mr. Hand, had they called him? tilted his head slightly."You made a deal, Doctor."

"I want -- to see him," he said softly, firmly. "I want to be certain -- that you kept up -- your end of the bargain."

The tall man strode forward suddenly, and Daniel closed his eyes, trying not to shrink back in fear but automatically anticipating pain.

He opened his eyes to the man's face, colourless and frighteningly inhuman. "Strange that with all your skills doctor, that you could not treat your own... deviant nature."

"It's not deviant," he found himself replying. Even if it meant more pain, he couldn't bring himself to denounce it, the feelings he had for John.

"No matter. We will take care of that," Mr. Hand was saying. "You have no need to see the man. He would not remember you if you did, yes?"

Daniel shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I want to -- see him. I want to be -- sure - that he is well and whole, that you kept -- your promise. If you -- will not allow me -- to see him, then you will have to -- kill me -- and complete your precious -- experiments -- without my expertise."

Hand turned, and that horrible clicking sound filled the air again as he communicated with the two at the door. After a few moments, they turned and left.

"We will grant your request," Mr. Hand replied. "To be sure that the implant was successful, and to see that you keep your word, Doctor. We do warn you, that any attempt to make him remember you will make you very sorry."

~~~

There was a window on the wall, through which he could see a Doctor's examination room, John sitting on the table. "The Doctor will see you now," Mr. Hand said as he opened the door, and left.

John jumped up quickly, not attempting to hide the surprise on his face. "Doctor? Are you all right?"

There was no recognition, nothing there beyond the alarm for his very visible wounds and bandages. He was silent for a long moment, struggling to overcome the wave of desperate sorrow that welled up inside him, the ache to take him in his arms. The Strangers were right.... he didn't remember. "I apologize for - my appearance," He replied, trying to remember to breathe, holding out his hand in introduction. "I was recently -- in a auto crash. You are...?"

"Eric Vanburg," John smiled, shaking his hand firmly. "Doctor...."

"Schreber," Daniel replied faintly, feeling very much like he wanted to sit down and pass out, but knowing that if he did, the strangers would end the meeting. His mind was spinning, unable to process the complete change, to cope with being cut off from him. "Pleased to -- meet you. What brings you here -- today?"

"I'm entering the police force," John replied with a smile. "I just need a basic physical."

Daniel gave a nod. "I see. Please strip down -- to your undergarments and -- sit on the table, if you -- don't mind."

As John - Eric now, undressed, Daniel caught sight of a flash of silver on his hand.

He still had the ring.

He grabbed for the side of the bed with a sudden shock of pain, gasping a little, and heard John's concerned voice. "Doctor? You don't seem well..."

"I'm fine," he replied quickly, not wanting this to end. "Please -- excuse me. I can take --- your clothes. Jewelry too, please."

Heart pounding, he set the garments on the chair by the door before taking his wristwatch and the ring, carefully tucking the ring into the pocket of his slacks, hoping that he could somehow smuggle it out. Then he set about a cursory examination, checking his blood pressure, listening to his breathing. The strangers hadn't lied.... there was no sign of the injuries Daniel had remembered previously, other than an almost entirely unnoticeable droop to his left eyelid from where they'd damaged the nerves in his face. "Are you married -- Mr. Vanburg?"

John smiled widely. "Two years just yesterday, doc. We have a little boy on the way."

"Congratulations," he managed to murmur, finishing with his reflexes, and setting the hammer aside and looking at him for a long moment, miserable.

"Is everything... all right, Doctor?"

"Yes, you are -- in perfect health," he replied, not taking his eyes from him, trying to find some clue, the smallest hint of recognition in them. No... nothing. No hint of the man he loved. But he couldn't help but look, as if he could burn his face into his mind forever. "I'm sorry," He murmured. "This is just... the last time...."

"Doctor...?"

"If they ever -- hurt you again," he found himself saying softly under his breath, "I swear, they -- somehow, they will pay." The man in front of him reached up to touch his arm gently, and the intimacy of the unexpected touch broke him, tears welling up in his eyes, stinging the taped wound under the bandages. "I love you," Daniel couldn't stop from saying. "You won't remember -- this moment -- and neither will I, but I love you -- and nothing can erase you -- from my heart. I love you."

The door banged open before John could reply. "That is quite enough, Doctor. Our apologies, Mr. Vanburg. The doctor has hit his head and is not well."

"No - please - " Daniel reached up grabbed the hand on his arm, holding tightly to it, gasping, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean -- please don't -- not yet!"

"It's time to go, Doctor," Mr Hand said sternly, striding forward to grasp his other hand, his grip ice cold and painfully tight.

"Please, no... I beg of you - !"

"Doctor..." John's voice was soft, and his free hand touched Daniel's gently, warmly. "Don't worry... I'll remember." Whether it was a genuine expression or just his kindness, Daniel couldn't tell, but it was enough.

He let go, choking on his words, letting Mr. Hand pull him roughly from the room. "Goodbye - John!"

Mr. Hand's last pull swept him off his feet, and he felt himself flying down the length of the hall to slam into the brick at the end with a painful crack, crumpling to the floor. "No more disobedience, Doctor. Time to imprint. We will take no more of this from you."

His head was spinning, but he managed to nod, trying to pick himself up. Hand hauled him to his feet by the front of his shirt, and he gasped for breath through what precious little was left of his airway, gasped until Hand let him go to collapse into the arms of the other two white faced men, who hold him upright. Then he ripped the bandage off his eye, and Daniel cried out as he felt one of the stitches rip, blood blinding him, the skin flapping helplessly as he tried to close his eye against the hot, stinging liquid. He could taste blood in his mouth as well, blood on his shirt, on his hands.

Mr. Hand's knife was sharp, licking at his earlobe, cutting a slice of white hot pain in his scalp. They were carrying him, but he could hardly see, couldn't do anything but let them take him, throw him into a hard metal chair. He was surrounded by them, he knew that much. Watching him, uncaring. They pressed a syringe into his hand.

"Now, Doctor."

He was shaking, sobbing, and closed his eyes, bringing the syringe up with both hands. If this was his last moment as himself, he would think of John, he would think of love, his kisses, his love, forever and ever, he would think of...

He plunged the syringe into his forehead and screamed as he pulled the trigger.

~~~

Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber, as they said he was called, pulled a three piece suit out of the closet, dressing quickly, smartly. The bandage on his right eye only hampered his ability a little, and they'd said he would heal from his accident soon enough. His memories were fuzzy, but he seemed to remember it not being so much of an accident after all....

He picked his pocket watch up off the desk, tucking it in his pants pocket, hearing a small metallic clink as he did.

He stopped, curious, slipping his hand in his pocket to investigate. Something cold and hard - a ring - caught on the lining of his pockets. He freed it carefully, bringing it up to inspect it with his good eye. Polished and brushed white gold, and a small diamond that glinted even in the dim light. The inside of the band caught his attention, and he tilted the ring to read.

"Love always, Daniel."

He pondered the words silently for a long moment, trying to remember where this came from. Something told him it was significant, but he couldn't quite place it. It was a little too large for his ring finger and too small for his index, so it couldn't belong to him....

A... lover? He read the inscription again. Love always. He turned to leave, setting the ring down on the dresser top. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was significant. Love always....

He stopped, something tugging at the back of his mind. Someone he'd loved...

Of course, came the sudden realization. That's why he was here. To protect someone that he loved. The knowledge came with a sudden warmth, emotion so strong that it made him gasp. He closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in it. Then he picked it up again, pressing it to his lips for a moment before undoing the chain around his neck, stringing the ring onto it and tucking it under his shirt, against his heart.

~~~~finish~~~~

 


End file.
